


The Things We Wrote in the Dirt

by Kanthia



Category: Winx Club
Genre: F/M, Introspection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-18
Updated: 2013-11-18
Packaged: 2018-01-02 00:24:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1050356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kanthia/pseuds/Kanthia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set after the events of Season 4. A story about stories: things are changing on Earth, and things are changing in Bloom. Spoilers, oneshot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Things We Wrote in the Dirt

**Author's Note:**

> An attempt to wrangle some thoughts of mine into order, involving some wilful ignorance of how Season 5 proceeds. I rediscovered this show years after I first watched the 4Kids version, and it's wonderful to watch it again with fresh eyes. Unnecessarily serious, but so life goes.

**01**  
For weeks after the revelation of magic to the people of Earth, Bloom was forbidden from returning to the realm. There were duties to perform in Domino, and clean-up to be done in Magix -- and besides, she was still a teacher at Alfea. After their six-week sabbatical there were midterm exams to mark and a whole lot of catch-up to play, which meant they often spent afternoons in the faculty lounge with Avalon, who had graciously taken on the course (and re-branded it “Magic Physiology”) in their absence. 

“I don’t understand why I’m not allowed back to Earth, though,” Bloom said one afternoon, as she reviewed the readings from the Magical Reality Chamber with Avalon, Tecna and Palladium. “I mean, I know there’s a whole lot for me to do at Alfea, but why can’t I just drop in to Gardenia and say hello every now and then?”

“Don’t forget that you’re the Guardian Fairy of Domino,” Tecna added, without looking up from a magical printout. 

Bloom smiled and nodded; she’d been called out of her seminar to her planet at the centre of magic only two days prior, to deal with a particularly nasty infestation of fire-eating beetles. “I know, but --”

Palladium coughed, drawing Bloom and Tecna’s attention. “Let’s focus on the task at hand, girls,” he said. “Bloom, if you need to discuss the matter further, you may want to take it up with the Headmistress.”

Two first-years failed that evening, a record low for the school. They were finishing up writing reports when the bell rang announcing dinner; Palladium and Avalon excused themselves to take dinner in their room, and Bloom said nothing about the thin blue magical chain that was forming between all of them. 

**02**  
“You’re awfully quiet tonight,” Flora said, as they dined at the staff table. “Is it something you want to talk about?”

Bloom shook her head. “Just something Palladium said to me.” And something Palladium had done, as well. A year and a half later Avalon was still struggling to find his place in the school, when a chimera wearing his skin had built so much of his reputation among the students while he languished in Darkar’s prison -- but, at the very least, he had found someone dear.

And hadn’t she? After all the ups and downs, she and Sky were still hanging onto one another, tenaciously, firmly. Among the six of them, what a strange picture they drew of love: everything from Brandon and Stella’s deep sensory connection, to Tecna and Timmy’s halting, awkward, but obvious attraction. And now, too, Bloom can see one end of a thin blue chain attached to Flora’s heart.

 **03**  
“I’m sorry, Bloom,” Headmistress Faragonda says. “We should have been clear with you from the beginning, but the Council was -- worried, that you would head to Earth on your own if we had not kept you here. Your bravery and obstinate recklessness in ignoring orders that go against your heart have been wonderful assets in the past, but what is happening on Earth right now is not a matter you should meddle in.”

Bloom crosses and uncrosses her legs. Griselda places a hand on her shoulder. “What’s happening on Earth?”

“The magic is back, as you know.” Faragonda clasps her hands behind her back and turns towards the window, looking out towards the woods and the curve of the horizon beyond. “Earth is reclaiming its rightful place in the Magic Dimension. But it has been seven or eight hundred years since the disappearance of magic on Earth, and we have never had such a beautifully preserved example of the development of nonmagic natural sciences. We need to proceed with caution, lest we throw the delicate balance of belief and disbelief off balance.”

“But Roxy believed,” Bloom says, plaintively.

“Roxy saw six fairies before her eyes, and even then, it took much convincing to open her eyes to the reality before her. And you and Roxy are young, Bloom. Imagine the mental struggles of those who have spent their whole lives with the belief -- the _knowledge_ \-- that magic doesn’t exist.”

“There’s unrest.”

“Quite a bit. The Earth-folk are angry, and feel cheated, and entitled to magic. But systems of magic forces whole planets to specialize -- think of Zenith’s magitechnology, or Lynphea’s natural magic -- while Earth, meanwhile, has been forced to diversify. It’s going to take a lot of re-education to have your people understand.”

Bloom doesn’t understand. “Are Mike and Vanessa okay?”

“I’ve been told, yes. They’re under the care of Morgana.”

“Can I talk to them?”

“I think we can arrange that.”

There is a chain wrapped around Faragonda’s wrist.

 **04**  
On her way back to the faculty lounge, Bloom runs headfirst into Avalon. The shock causes him to drop his armload of books, and she apologizes as she helps him collect his things.

“No need to apologize,” Avalon says as she hands him the last book, a tome titled _De rerum natura_. “Ah, you might know about that one. Have you heard of a man from Earth named Lucretius?”

“Um, no,” Bloom says. “To be honest, there’s a lot about Earth I don’t know. Faragonda said something about --”

“-- Diversity? Ah, of course. In Magi-Philosophy we sometimes refer to the concept as ‘essentialism’, the tendency among magic-empowered realms to reduce their reasoning and modes of production to a single element. But tell me Bloom, what are your thoughts on the matter of Earth’s essentialism? The Council is considering inviting you to the table with regards to this issue.”

Bloom can’t help but think of Melody, where even the whales joined in the song. “I don’t know, Professor. To be honest, I’m kind of -- distracted by other things, at the moment.”

Avalon strokes his chin with a free hand. “Faragonda mentioned that achieving Believix on Earth may have opened a new channel in you, giving you access to a power that expresses the unique combination of Domino and Earth. Give it a thought. That combination may give us some insight into Earth’s essential magic.”

The thought follows Bloom all the way home.

 **05**  
In Bloom still burns the living flame that sparked the beginning of the universe, the Alpha and Omega that set the stars alight; and sometimes, if she lets her mind wander, she can sense the chains that connect them all to the source of their magic. On such a night she feels Musa, out on her porch singing a love song; and she feels Flora, who is writing poetry; and she feels Tecna, who has connected herself to the internet, and is probing nerve endings on a computer in Red Fountain; and she feels Stella’s conspicuous absence, having left for a midnight jet into the woods with Brandon; and she feels Aisha, who is having another nightmare.

Bloom can’t sleep, despite the assurance of her adoptive parents that they are okay, and that the unrest is mostly being conducted in speeches and newspapers and internet flame wars and not on Gardenia’s streets. She is sitting on the roof of the dorm wing, watching Magix’s moons and yearning for the time before she knew about magic.

A Levi-Bike trails a fume of glowing magic dust as it drops down to her. As it powers down, Sky takes off his helmet and he is smiling the smile of someone brought high by young love, and her heart beats a little faster.

“Hi,” she says, forcing the song of the stars and their echoes through an old, old universe into a single syllable.

“Hi yourself,” Sky returns, placing the helmet and his gloves next to the bike. “Timmy told me you’d be here.” 

Bloom doesn’t probe, but she allows Sky to sit next to her and place his arm around her, and her thoughts return to Magix’s moons. The thought of a sky above and a Sky beside cause her to laugh to herself, and when he asks, she tells him.

He smiles. “Not the first time I’ve heard that one. So, Bloom, which Sky do you prefer?”

“You, of course,” she says, but for a moment she finds herself thinking of the first time she flew through the air -- that dizzying, delightful feeling of one’s stomach lifting, and the knowledge that she was doing something her body had always wanted to do. Then she feels bad for the white lie, and tells him about the feeling of flying. He listens in rapt attention, pulling himself closer.

There is a chain attached to her own heart, and she knows: hers is a blue flame, a healing light, harbinger of warm love. Domino is many things, but first and foremost it is a realm of fire -- red fire. Earth’s essential element, then --

“Of course,” Bloom murmurs, suddenly. “Blue -- that much was obvious. It’s a blue planet. But these chains, they link --”

“Hm?” Sky has his chin tilted down. One end of her chain is attached to him, and Bloom’s heart leaps up and out, manifests itself as a million little flames like candles lighting up the air. 

**06**  
“ -- Stories,” Daphne says, floating before her in a dream. “There’s very little literature about Earth, but yes, I can see that.”

Bloom nods. “I thought it was love, for a while. But when the Wizards of the Black Circle got rid of the fairies, the magic had to go somewhere, right? That’s why everyone on Earth tells stories, because it’s part of the magic that keeps our hearts alive. And there are so many stories about fairies themselves...”

Echoing in the dream, Bloom hears herself shout _Bloom, fairy of stories_ , and it feels wonderful. Reminds her of the first time she wrote ‘Winx Club’ in the dirt -- scribbling the affirmation of something she already knew, breathing life into the world, doing what her magic always wanted her to do: create, inspire, share, love.

 **07**  
Selina was still on Earth, then, breathing in new life from old magic, and the Legendarium is writing itself in her hands.

Stories, indeed.

 

 _We are a narrative species._  
Roger Rosenblatt, “I Am Writing Blindly”

**Author's Note:**

> You can also find me on [tumblr](http://kanthia.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
